Blood and Chocolate
by Nik0laiCarpathia
Summary: As a half-breed vampire, Harry was practically born a slayer of the evil and supernatural, but when his boss orders him to attend Hogwarts, he is in for the greatest challenge of his life. Voldemort is building his army, and now it is time for Harry to do the same, all the while fighting against the monster inside. No BWL, Guardian!Sirius, no horcruxes.
1. Plots and Prologues

**Plots and Prologues**

_**A/N:** Hey old and, hopefully, new readers. Nik0lai is at it again with a new fic, but bear with me. I am using this as a diversion from some of my other works to prevent burnout, as well as an response to the disappointingly low amount of Vampire!Harry stories on this website that meet my, admittedly high, expectations. Thus I am giving this a shot to hopefully inspire those writers much better than I to give it their effort as well. So without further ado, let's get this train wreck moving! This chapter will seem pretty rushed because I am feeling kind of lazy and want to get as much of the generalized and relatively boring backstory out of the way as quick as possible so we can all get to the good stuff. Rest assured, future chapters will be better about it and anything juicy will be revisited in one way or another._

**Warnings**: Blood, Gore, Language, Adult Situations, Drug Use, Thinking, and Serious Sirius jokes.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter or any other owned or written materials. All these belong to associated parties. Any similarities between whatever whatever da de da, so forth and so forth. You all get the idea.

* * *

"_My father always used to say, 'If you're not sure where to start, go back to the beginning'. Well I can say with all honesty I have gone back as far as I can expect to go, yet I am still unsatisfied with the answers I have found. Who are they really? Where did they come from? Why are they so similar to us, and yet so utterly alien? For centuries man has been looking into the history of our only natural predator, and I have attempted to compile as much information on these strange beings as I can, in the hopes that someone will come along after me and solve the riddle once and for all. Who, or what, are the children of the night? The vampires?._

"_My search through the annals of time took me back to the days of Ancient Egypt. The pharaohs, in their never ending search for immortality, appeared one day before Anubis, the jackal-headed god of the dead. They begged and pleaded and sacrificed for his favor, and eventually won his attention. When asked what it was the drove them so single-mindedly, they replied immortality, so that they may gain knowledge and wealth for eternity. Anubis was displeased with the arrogance of man and offered them a deal. In return for the eternal life they sought, they would pledge their undying loyalty to him. Pleased to have their wishes granted, the pharaohs followed Anubis into his realm of undeath. For many long decades they toiled in the land of the dead, learning all they could of the ways of their new god. When the time came for them to return to the land of the living, the sunlight burned their eyes and scorched their flesh. In their agony they turned to their god for answers. Over time the men, in their devotion and love, had grown on Anubis and it was with a heavy heart he told them of their curse. Due to the time spent in the Underworld and their advanced age, none of them could truly be considered men any longer. As such they were no longer protected from the purifying light of Ra, the Sun God. The old pharaohs were heart broken by this news. In their sorrow they turned from the light once more and returned to the soothing relief of Anubis' catacombs. Anubis saw how much this pained his loyal followers and blessed them with a fraction of his very power. That over life and death. With this divine power at their fingertips, the pharaohs released any remaining ties they held to the daylight world and returned to their studies. _

"_From here the records become muddled, as they disappear for a long time. All we know is that at some point they returned to the surface, though for what purpose is uncertain. Some believe it was because they tired of the darkness of their realm. Others feel they desired to turn their powers on their people, to turn them into creatures much like themselves so they might be served, as they once were, for all eternity. And others still claim it was because they had grown to despise the living for cherishing what they desired so richly. Whatever their reasons, their return was not a pleasant one, as they returned as monstrosities. Twisted shells of their former glory who fed on the living to fuel the rituals and magiks given to them by their old god. Now all that once remained of them are gone forever, and they are nothing but unholy soldiers of death and destruction who seek nothing more than to drive our world into a darkness much like*-heir own._

"_The time they spent in the Underworld had far more effects on their bodies than simply rendering them weak to sunlight. Anubis' realm is not one meant for the living, yet they could not die for so long as they were protected by him. As such the raving torrents of the pure power released at death by we mortals battered their bodies and ravaged their minds. Their bodies curled into themselves and yet grew strong. Their skin bore scars that left similar marks on their very spirits, and yet they grew tough and callous. Their nails, soft from being pampered by their servants and slaves, hardened from scrabbling in the rock and dirt until they were sharper and more resilient than the axes used to mine the same rock. After their initial return to the daylight world, their eyes grew weaker and weaker in their disuse until they finally just closed and never reopened. In place of these lost senses, their magic and minds grew at rates that would astound their living contemporaries. They gained the ability to reach beyond the veil of life and death, the veil that they themselves wore as a cloak, and bring back those who were lost. When they raged at the world and bit and tore at each other in their anger, they left terrible wounds that would not normally heal. Again, they could not die, and simply had the time to learn to sing to the flesh, urging it to grow and replace what had been lost. Mortal wounds were healed within minutes, debilitating ones within seconds. Mere inconveniences would heal as the blade drew through their very skin. They had become all but immortal, not just from the sands of time but of the weapons of man and the tooth and nail of beast. The only simple way to kill them had become through the instruments of Ra, the sun and fire._

"_The lessons at the feet of their god were countless and they learned things that we can hardly imagine, giving them great power over we living. To us however, they had become nothing more than simple legends. Tales laughed about by the learned and feared by the superstitious. None of us could have known the true horror they were capable of visiting upon us, however, until the first time they gathered their forces and marched upon the mortal realm. For you see, during their long exile Anubis and Ra came together and spoke of the men living in Anubis' realm. Ra was angered by the gifts Anubis had given to them and demanded that he remove the curse and allow them to die, as all things are meant to. Anubis refused his demands and instead threatened Ra with the destruction of his people, should he persist. This angered the Sun God greatly, and the two came to blows. Anubis was truly mighty, but they had agreed to meet in the Sun God's land, just as the sun was coming up. As the fight raged on between the two, Anubis grew weaker while Ra grew stronger. Finally, after hours of brutal combat, Ra struck Anubis with his staff and cast him back into the darkness of his void. The old ones, the pharaohs, were left unprotected as their God took the time he needed to heal from the ferocious wounds left by his new enemy. Ra used his purifying powers upon the vulnerable pharaohs, but found that he could not kill him. In striking Anubis down while he was protecting them, Anubis imbibed them with the power of his very blood. Ra was once again filled with rage at this, and used the only manner of hurting them that he had. He locked away the knowledge and power given to them by Anubis in the very blood that protected them. Without their intelligence, the people were left nothing more than beasts as mindless as the wolves._

"_It was many years before Anubis healed from the wounds he suffered at the hands of Ra, and when he did he saw what had been done to his beloved people. Where before they were a thriving people of civility and power, now they walked on all fours and scrabbled in the dirt for food. They fought each other for sometimes no reason at all, and they would not respond to his attempts at healing them. The damage done to them was irreversible, and Anubis wept for his children. Stricken by grief and hatred at Ra for what he had done, Anubis gave unto his children yet another gift. He tainted the blood that coursed through his veins and took away the last vestiges of their humanity, turning them into something finally inhuman. Any who would feel the bite of a vampire would take on their form. Any who tasted their blood would gain their power and with it the gifts of Anubis. He also gave them direction. When before they simply raged at the world, now they raged at those considered to be the Cattle of Ra. Humanity. _

_Thus began the long and bloody war between our two people. One that rages on still today. And until we can find a way to reverse that which was done to them by the two angry gods, our people will fight until eventually nothing remains. I am afraid I am too old and weak to continue in my journey as I have since before I could even be considered a man, but I leave these records in the hope that someone after me will pick up where I left off and continue by holy work. We _must_ finish this, or this will finish us. May the gods watch over us all._

_- Wahankh, Keeper of the Tomes_

**XxXxXxX**

**- Back Alley Streets : Los Angeles, California, US Summer of 1995 -**

**XxXxXxX**

Marcus cracked his neck to one side as he watched his latest mark shamble off into the night. That one had always made him a bit tense and tonight was no difference. Scrawny frame, missing and cracked teeth, scraggly hair that looked like it hadn't been washed for ten years and a stench that could wake the dead followed the man wherever he went. Sometimes he wondered why he didn't just change careers so he didn't have to cater to such a disgusting clientele. Still, he thought to himself as he counted out the wad of ten and five dollar bills the meth head had shoved into his hands, there were worse ways to make money. And hey, it sure as hell beat working for a living. He had watched his father throw his entire life away behind a shovel for a labor agency and what had the man had to show for it? A drinking problem and severe back pains until his heart gave out one day and he collapsed on the pavement. Fuck. That.

When he finished counting out the cash he added it to the roll in his leather jacket and checked his watch. Three thirteen in the morning, thank god the night was almost over. All he had to do was report back to his boss, turn in the roll minus his cut, and he could grab some take-out before heading back to his apartment. Off in the distance the lullaby of the city sang out with the soft pops of distance gunshots and the resulting whine of police sirens as they offered a token resistance to the dark deeds that plagued city life. Sure, it wasn't exactly what he had envisioned himself doing as a kid but once you got used to it, the life wasn't all that bad.

His attention was swiftly redirected when he heard footsteps coming up from behind him, and he turned as quickly as he could while remaining casual. About thirty feet down the filthy street, standing in the shifting shadows of a flickering streetlamp was the silhouette of a young man, but he couldn't make out any more details.

"Hey, you Marcus?" Judging from the tone of the voice, it was definitely some kid. Probably just a street punk buying for his gang.

"I'm closed, buddy. You should have showed up about twenty minutes ago. Better luck tomorrow."

His voice was hard and steady, but there was something strange about the guy that didn't sit right with him. Something deep in his gut twinged in fear, the same way it might when something shifts in the bushes outside your window in the middle of the night. The kid started walking towards him, out of the shroud of darkness and into the light, but just as the streetlamp was about to reveal his face, it flickered again. In the instant it took for it to come back on, the kid had shifted to the side just enough for his face to be hidden again.

"I said I'm closed, asshole. Go find someone else to bother, before I get pissed." To emphasize his point, Marcus reached into his jacket for where his handgun was tucked comfortably away, and laid his hand on its reassuring weight. The kid continued to ignore him though, still walking forward at a slow and steady pace. Despite the size difference between them and the likelihood that the kid had nothing more than a switchblade on him, if that, Marcus' heart was pounding in his throat and his palms were growing sweaty. There was something seriously wrong, and his instincts were telling him to either run or fight, but at least stop standing there. Whoever this kid was, he had him pinned with the dead end behind him and solid brick walls on either side. The only way out was at the kid's back.

"Does the name Mindy mean anything to you?" The figure's voice was still that cold and direct tone, and it had an accent that he couldn't recognize. He cocked an eyebrow in surprise at the question and his grip on the pistol relaxed a bit.

"No, why? She send you out here?" The figure had stopped and now he was standing with the light at his back, still flickering away, and it was doing its job in disorienting Marcus, who had to deal with the light in his eyes in order to keep track of the speaker.

"I guess you could say that. Mindy is the fifteen year old high school girl who came home yesterday afternoon to find her mom sprawled on her apartment floor, OD-ing on the heroin you sold her. She's in the hospital waiting room right now, praying to god that her mom will be okay. We both know she isn't going to make it, and that means by this time tomorrow little Mindy is going to be an orphan, spending what little of her childhood she has left as a ward of the state. All because of you."

Great, some justice-fuck out to make his life hard. Just what he needed on his way home. He relaxed his guard and took his hand out of his jacket, away from his holster.

"Look kid, sucks for little Mindy, but that's the way the world goes. Her mom made her choice and I make mine. I'm just earning a living like everyone else, that don't make me a monster okay?" This time it was Marcus who stepped forward, and the change in angle allowed him to see what he couldn't before. The kid's face was still covered in the shadow of a tilted-down baseball cap, but he was able to make out a pair of acid green eyes that seemed to glitter in the almost nonexistent light of the alleyway.

"Just doing what you have to do to survive, huh? That doesn't make you a monster?" The figure looked up, and now Marcus saw an unnatural flash of white from the boy's smirk. "I was hoping you'd say that."

The two had to have been standing at least twenty feet from each other, and yet he was able to clear the distance before Marcus even had time to pull the gun from his shoulder holster. His attacker collided with him with the force of a moving car, despite his smaller size, and took him to the ground easily. The last thing he felt was his head being jerked to the side by his hair, and an intense stabbing pain at the base of his neck, where it met the shoulder. As his strength faded and the world fell into darkness, Marcus thought he heard a soft sucking sound and a errant thought crossed his mind.

_'The crazy bastard bit me...'_

XxXxXxX

Harry leaned back from the now barely alive drug dealer, breathing heavily as he savored the flood of strength that always followed his feedings. Every muscle in his body lit up with heat and it felt like his blood was replaced with high-octane fuel. The taste of blood in his mouth and the delicious weight in his stomach brought him back to himself as the adrenaline started to fade. It was only then that he realized where he was. In the middle of a dirty alleyway, straddling the still warm body of some guy who he had just sucked the blood out of like a Popsicle stick. He stood up and rolled his shoulders, then wiped the dirt and gravel from his jeans. He had long since accepted his vampiric nature, the dark side of himself that demanded he drain the strength from the living, but it still disgusted him. While it was happening, while he was under the bloodlust, it seemed like the most natural thing in the world and he loved it. But as soon as the beast was sated and it returned to its slumber, he was left with the copper tang in his mouth and guilt of taking a life on his conscience. He had been told that over time he would learn to control his hunger and leave his victims alive without draining them of too much, but he had yet to learn that much self control. At least this way he was left with the satisfaction of knowing that he had removed one more scumbag from the world at the same time.

With practiced movements, Harry patted down the dead man's form and removed the holster and firearm, the fat wallet and roll of bills of varying sizes, and what few packets of drugs he hadn't managed to sell over the course of the night. Not a bad haul, all things considered. He tossed the drugs and now much lighter wallet at the feet of the man so the police would be able to identify the man by identification and profession, and pocketed the rest. Just like his mentor taught him, he stuck his head out from around the alley's corner and scanned the street, ensuring it was empty and he was guaranteed his privacy for what came next. With no one to catch him in the act, and the only evidence of his nature at his feet, the boy removed a plastic bottle of lighter fluid and a box of matches. Dousing the body and leaving a trail to the opening of the alley took only seconds, and by the time the inferno was roaring, he was gone. The night returned to its previous calmness as Marcus burned away to nothing but a pile of charred remains, leaving no trace of a vampire's passing. As it should be.

**XxXxXxX**

**- Hilton Hotel : Los Angeles-**

**XxXxXxX**

Harry James Potter, fifteen soon to be sixteen year old son of James and Lily made his way across the relatively empty foyer of one the most expensive hotels in the City of Angels. Standing at five foot eleven inches with cropped black hair, almost sickly pale skin, vibrant green eyes, a cocky smirk, and a muscular physique, the young man was far more attractive than average for boys his age, due to the nature of his birth. Born to a vampire father and a human mother, Harry couldn't be considered belonging to either race. From his very birth, he was different from any human alive. He was walking by three weeks of age, talking by nine, and by the time he was seven years old he appeared to be a fully matured seventeen year old, at which point he had ceased aging entirely. Yet he couldn't be thought of as a true vampire, either. Compared to one of full blood, he was laughably weak and unable to survive for himself. His senses, superhuman as they may be, were dulled by their standards and everything that made vampires as powerful as they were had been diluted by his mixed heritage. One of the few upsides to this, from the vampiric point of view at least, was his ability to walk in the daylight without immolating. Yet another thing that set him apart from even his half-blood brethren was his upbringing. Normally a half-blood was abandoned by his vampire father upon conception and his mother would die in childbirth, where they would then proceed to be isolated by both circumstance, superstition, and fear. Despite his mother dying upon his birth and his father following a year after at the hands of his murderers, Harry had been raised by those who knew his secrets and still loved him for who he was. Though to be fair, how appropriate it was for _any_ child to be raised by his surrogate father could be debated. Not only that, but his surrogate father was old family friends with his mother and father, and was thus able to raise Harry into the inheritance he was born with. All things considered, there was very little Harry could complain about his life, even if he did hate the beast within him that drove him to consume the blood of the living about once every fortnight.

"Harry, there you are! I was starting to get worried. Did you step outside for a _bite_?"

Okay, so maybe there was _one_ thing. Despite himself, he smiled at his Godfather's antics as the tall scraggly man snickered at his own joke. Sirius Black may not live up to either of his namesakes, but he could honestly say he loved the man like the father he had lost after only one year of memories, every one of which he could recall with perfect clarity, thanks again to his birthright. A responsible adult he may not be at all times, but he was easy to get along with and possibly the only reason Harry was as sane as he could claim to be. Though he doubted many people who had never met the man would appreciate the irony of that statement.

"Yeah, though I guess you could say the meal just... didn't agree with me. I don't think I will be eating there again."

Harry thought for a moment that he might have seen a flash of something sad behind Sirius' eyes, but it was gone almost as quickly as it had come and his Godfather chortled loudly at the return jab. Standing at just slightly shorter than Harry but broader in the shoulders for it, Sirius was a stunningly handsome man in that 'bad boy' kind of way that made him so popular with the ladies. The long black duster, worn jeans, five o'clock shadow, and thick riding boots only reinforced the image, and the man was only too ready to encourage it. Something he brought up constantly with Harry, usually accompanied by queries as to when he was going to start putting himself out there.

"_You've got a lot going for you Harry, and you could do with a few ways to blow off some steam. Trust me on this." _was something Harry heard constantly, and he was beginning to wonder if his guardian had any ulterior motives of some kind. Or maybe he was just fishing for blackmail material? It was hard to tell with him sometimes.

"Alright Squirt, we've got our new assignment." Sirius said excitedly once he was standing within whispering range of his charge. He threw one broad arm around Harry's shoulders and steered him off in the direction of the elevator. "We've got reports from the big man upstairs that he has got his sights on another potential group of feral suckheads that need to be taken care of."

Here Sirius paused in the minor briefing to flash a smirk to a passing blonde with a cute... personality, before continuing after she had passed out of earshot.

"Dumbledore wants us to infiltrate the area, identify any possible targets, and report back to him once we have a list of suspects."

"Alright, and where is this place supposed to be? If we're answering to the Bearded-One, it has to be somewhere in Britain. Given the Voldemort situation I can't imagine it would be anywhere too far out of the way, and if he is calling us in for it, it is most likely somewhere with a decent population of Magicals. Which would narrow it down to either Diagon Alley or..."

He felt Sirius tense up from where they were touching, and he frowned. They, Sirius and Dumbledore, had been trying to convince him to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for close to five years now, and every time he had refused. He was a vampire hunter for crying out loud, he couldn't afford to be trapped in some kiddy school while innocent people, non-magicals even, were dying on the streets to a menace they didn't even know existed. It was wrong and one of the few subjects on which Harry wasn't willing to bow to his superiors' greater wisdom. They both understood why he was arguing, and to an extent agreed with him, but they both were under the impression that he would be able to do a far greater job if he was to accept the training he would be given were he to attend one of the most illustrious schools in Magical Britain.

"Oh for crying out loud, Sirius. There aren't any vampires in Hogwarts, are there? If there were, you would have dragged me there a long time ago, not only just come up with the idea. And stop calling me 'Squirt'!"

The elevator binged to announce their arrival on the penthouse floor and slid open to show the studio apartment that he and Sirius had rented for their two month stay in Los Angeles while they hunted down the various supernatural creatures that fed on the city's unknowing population. While vampires could be considered his personal specialty, he knew how to track, fight, and kill a wide variety of malevolent entities. Let alone the breadth of Sirius' experience. As soon as he saw the contents of their shared apartment, the boy groaned to himself. Sirius had already packed up their belongings, or had Kreacher do it no doubt, and they were sitting in suitcases right by the door waiting.

"Alright, Shortstuff, here's the deal." Sirius said, the humor as gone from his voice as it ever was. He was dead serious for possibly the third time in Harry's entire life. The first time being the death of his father, and the second was when he was convinced he had caught something from staying the night with a beautiful redhead who practically threw herself at him. So far both events had been scarring, though in very different ways. "Dumbledore and I have been trying to be nice about it for the last couple of years, and you have brought up a valid point. Dark creature activity has been going through the roof lately and it has been important that we have as many agents in the field as we could. But at this point it isn't looking like it will slow down any time soon. Dumbledore says his top agents have been able to locate what they believe to be the source of the activity and he is organizing his people to do something about it directly."

"Voldemort, right?" Sirius looked at Harry with a look of astonishment that he was really getting tired of seeing pointed at him.

"Yeah, actually. Right on target. So basically, Dumbles wants you to be trained up to be some kind of super soldier to fight behind the scenes and hit him where it hurts."

Harry shot a look at him, trying to judge if the man was just playing up to his admittedly large ego, or shooting straight with him. After a moments reflection and thinking over the facts, he came to his conclusion. Either they are serious, and this was big enough to possibly end this thing once and for all, or they were bullshitting him just to get him into the damned school, in which case he might as well go if only to get them off of his back about it. He waited a moment for Sirius to dig around in the refrigerator before he had his full attention again.

"Alright, assuming I am even going to agree to this..." Sirius' resulting grin told him that the man saw through his bullshit, and he was already planning on how to snag the window seat on the plane ride overseas. "What exactly am I supposed to be doing there? Other than hunting for vampires, apparently."

"Actually, here's the interesting part." The dark-haired man said as he collapsed on a cushy leather sofa with a beer in one hand and the remote to the massive TV in the other. "One, the whole vampire thing. Honestly, I have no idea if he means it or not. For all I know Hogwarts might as well be the underage blood bank of the world, so at the very least it bears looking into. Two, learning everything you can from everyone you can. Transfiguration, Defense Against the Dark Arts, though you may as well be teaching that class yourself; Charms, Arithmancy, and the other basics. You will actually be attending more advanced classes than you would normally be because of what you already know as well as how fast you learn, so have fun with that. Third, Dumbledore wants you to look into helping out any of the students who are willing to learn from a more hands on source outside of classes. I'm told he wants to talk to you about that more personally and that I wasn't supposed to go into too much detail. Finally?" The man's eyes softened as he looked over the back of the couch at Harry again. "He, both of us actually, wants you to spend some time around people your own age. You've been playing grown up for so long, we both tend to forget how old you really are. There will come a time where you will look back and regret not having a real childhood, and having to have grown up so much so fast. Go, be a kid, get into trouble. Worry about homework, get caught making out with girls in the hallways, and sneak out of your dorm room in the middle of the night to steal food from the kitchens. Be a kid, Harry, for as long as you can. Things are going to get a whole lot worse before they get better, and neither of us want that for you. And before you argue, keep in mind, that this _is_ an order. No more logical arguments and counter-points. You are _going_ to attend Hogwarts for three years, you are _going_ to have fun and prepare yourself and the other children for the war that is coming, and so help me God, you are _going_ to bring honor to the name of the Marauders. You have a lot to live up to, Kiddo, and a lot of time to make up for. Do I make myself clear?"

With a roll of his eyes, Harry snapped to attention and shot him an American military salute.

"Sah, yes Sah!" Sirius held up his beer bottle in response, and Harry could hear the grin in his voice, despite the man cycling through channels in the search for something decent to watch on late night television.

"Excellent! Then get to bed, soldier. We have a plane to catch at ten in the morning. And for crying out loud, take a shower. You smell like a barbecue pit."

Harry left his Godfather to himself and headed back to his room to grab a change of clothes and a clean towel. He wasn't exactly sure how he felt about being ordered to attend the Magical equivalent of high school, but one thing was for certain. Things were about to get a whole lot more boring than they were now. He just hoped he was going to be able to stay awake for the countless lectures that were no doubt coming his way.

* * *

**A/N: Alright, so here's the deal. I've kind of burned out on the high level of seriousness and actioney-type stuff that is prevalent in everything else I am working on, and I am having problems working on anything fanfiction related in general. That is where this comes in. This fic is going to be an experiment in different styles, both humorous, horrific, and romantic. I am not going to make any major promises on where it is going to go exactly, but it could be just what I need to get back into the groove of writing again. So as always, leave a line or two to let me know what you think, what you would like to see, what to expect, any ideas on the potential pairings as spoiled in the character filters, and so forth. One thing I will say, is that I am seriously on the fence about the pairing. And yes, there will be a pairing. There will be tension between more than one possible suitor, I am just not sure where the end goal is going. I like to read multiple!girl fics, sure, but I don't know if I want to write one because of how unrealistic and how common they are. Then again, I am writing a fic about Harry being a half-blood vampire, so there goes any sense of realism anyway. So like I said, let me know what you think on the subject of multiple!girl fics. Even if I do end up going multiple girls, there will be no more than two. This I am not going to budge on. I want to keep it dramatic, and it is hard to do that with Harry bouncing around between four or five different girls at the same time.**

**Thanks for reading, and don't be a stranger!**

**- NikolaiCarpathia**

**P.S. - The title is still up for consideration, so if you have any ideas on a more appropriate substitute, I am happily open to suggestions. Cheers!**


	2. Innocence and Introductions

**Innocence and Introductions**

_A/N: As I'm sure a few of you have already noticed, I have changed the genres from Horror/Romance to Humor/Parody. Certainly a bit of a shit of polarities, but my... Beta Reader?... has convinced me to make this an experiment in pushing my comfort zones. There will still be multiple dark and dramatic elements, because I can't bear to write a fic without them, but it will be far more... I hesitate to say light hearted. But you get the idea._

Disclaimer: This is a fan based parody. Harry Potter is property of J.K. Rowling, Scholastic Books, and Warner Bro's Studios. Please support the official release. (Heheh.)

Romilda Vane grinned happily as she took in the wondrous sights around her. The train station hidden behind the brick column between platforms nine and ten was a sight she never tired of seeing! Unlike the relatively modern non-magical side of the barrier, everything had a low-tech and very historic edge to it. From the benches to the people, and especially the train. The Hogwarts Express shone like a ruby as the morning sun reflected off of the glossy red compartments, while the solid black engine car stood tall and proud, belching black smoke which disappeared into the fresh air. She vaguely recalled reading somewhere that the train ran exclusively on magic and thus had no need of coal, so why was it puffing smoke? Maybe the magical community just liked the look of it?

"Excuse me, pardon me, coming through."

She was jostled to the side by an impatient witch pulling two small children by the hand, and was reminded that she was standing in the middle of the walkway leading through the barrier between her old and new worlds. She hurried out of the way and maneuvered the trolley laden with her supplies toward the train, hoping that there was at least a compartment that wasn't full of people already. Granted, the train wasn't set to leave for another forty-five minutes, but one could never tell. Her parents had been insistent that she arrive with plenty of time to spare, and she was only too happy to oblige. All around her positively hundreds of people were gathered before the train, hugging each other and chattering away excitedly as parents gave final parting advice to their children and continued with their tearful goodbyes. Her heart panged painfully as she thought of her parents standing just on the other side of the barrier, unable to accompany her through one of many barriers separating them now. They would have loved this.

After some help from the men waiting to assist people with putting away their supplies, she found herself faced with the age old problem. Finding somewhere to sit amidst total strangers, at least until her friends showed up. Last year they had waited to meet just inside the barrier, but this year they agreed that whoever arrived first would secure a compartment so they could all sit together.. Originally she had thought that by arriving so early there would have been at least _one_ compartment without anyone already in it, but it would appear that many others had shared her sentiments and beaten her to it. Every one of the magically enlarged rooms had at least three people already in them, chatting animatedly with each other and sharing jokes. Fortunately for her, just as she was about to screw up her courage to introduce herself to one of the many small groups and hope for a favorable outcome, she noticed a room farther to the back that she hadn't noticed before. The door was closed, but the curtained blind that was provided for privacy hadn't been pulled back, allowing her to see in. There was only one occupant sitting with his back propped against the wall between the glass window and the cushioned seat, positioned so he could keep an eye on the door. He was wearing a leather jacket that looked rather similar to, but wasn't quite, crocodile skin. The boy's eyes and face were hidden by the hat he had pulled down over his brow, but the most distinguishing feature was the book he had buried himself in. With that, she made her decision on who she wanted to approach for a seat. Anyone sitting alone and reading a book usually didn't mind people joining them, as long as they weren't too disturbed for the ride. Okay, so hat might be a little hiccup somewhere along the line, but she would burn that bridge when she got to it. That was her motto! She knocked on the door softly, and slid it open when she hear the welcome called out.

"Hi there, um, I hope you don't mind, but would it be alright if a couple of friends and I joined you? Everywhere else already has people in it."

The boy glanced up at her, removing his hat as he did so, and she caught a glimpse of acid green eyes and a disarmingly handsome smile before it disappeared again.

"Of course, please be my guest." Relief washed over her and she smiled in return. He had only looked at her for a second, but the intensity of his eyes was overwhelming. There was something odd about them, but she just couldn't place it. She slid the door shut behind her and sank down into the soft cushioned seat opposite the boy. Now that she had a better chance to look him over, she was surprised by how much older than her he looked. From outside he seemed to be about her age, but from up close it was obvious that he had to be closer to sixteen or seventeen. So much for making a friend in her year this early. Still, at least she had somewhere to sit. One problem at a time. She settled into her chosen seat and pulled the magazine she had brought for the sake of passing time from the carry-on purse. She had a feeling she would be in for a long wait.

As time passed, Romilda felt herself focus less and less on her magazine and more on the boy sitting across from her. Eventually, after reading the same two lines for the fourth time, she gave up the charade and took to examining him as carefully as she could without giving herself away. She eyed the stranger warily, not inherently accusing but with cautions distrust. She had long since become familiar with the cruelties children could wield at each other for no apparent reason. He was significantly taller than herself, with dark clothing and a hard look in his eyes. Eyes that darted back ad forth rapidly as he devoured the book in front of him, much as she had intended, and was pretending to. Judging from the speed they were moving and his lack of reaction to the pages, he had either read it before and was speed reading, wasn't actually all that interested and was pretending to read it, or...

"Do I have something on my face?" His sudden inquiry startled her badly enough to drop her magazine and she darted down to retrieve it. By the time she returned to her place he had shifted his gaze to watch her. Romilda felt her cheeks heat up and ducked behind the glossy pages of fashion pictures to hide her embarrassment. For a few seconds she could feel his eyes on her, and it felt like he was trying to read her mind.

"N-no! Nothing like that." She said, a bit too loudly for comfort. His eyes remained on her, so she flipped through a few pages trying to act casual. Here was the most handsome boy she had ever seen at Hogwarts, or ever as she thought about it, and she had already embarrassed herself in front of him. "I've just never seen you around before. Are you new?"

"I am, actually. My name is Harry Potter. I'm a... transfer student from the United States." His voice was slow, but not unintelligent. More sure of himself and his speech than plodding. It was now that he had spoken more than a handful of words, that she noticed his accent. Definitely not anywhere in Britain, that was for sure, though she had little to compare it to but television and movies. He extended his hand to her, palm up, and her cheeks burned as she game him her own.

"I'm Romilda. Romilda Vane..." His voice was low and husky, more suited to a newly wedded husband than someone still attending Hogwarts. His eyes had gone from bored to hiding a smoldering heat to them, and it made her heart flutter and her breathing escalate. "It is a pleasure to meet you."

She had been expecting him to shake her hand, so it came as a shock when he lent down and brushed his lips against her knuckles.

"If I had known Hogwarts harbored such beauties as yourself, I would have agreed to attend far sooner."

His actions and words were archaic, and clique, and... and... some of the most romantic she had ever had directed toward her. She was no stranger to flirtation, prided herself on it in fact, but this older boy with dark hair and gorgeous eyes took her breath away. Literally! As he held her hand gently and stared into her eyes, she felt her lungs burning for air and her head getting light. Just as the room around her began spinning and she thought she would be lost forever... it was gone. He had returned to the seat across from her with the book in his hands, though he was no longer paying it any attention. Instead he was still looking at her, only this time with a cocky smirk on his face. Like he knew exactly what he had done to her and was terribly amused by it. Romilda squirmed a little bit and looked out the window, wishing she could get some fresh air in the now stuffy compartment. The thought of leaving never even crossed her mind.

"So uh, what year are you? Any idea which house you will be sorted into?" The boy cocked his head to the side a bit and considered the second question for a moment.

"I don't really care all that much about house politics, nor do I have any friends here to bias my decision. I do however feel myself being drawn to Ravenclaw." Here he shot another glance that burned in the way she was beginning to associate with him. "But, Miss Vane, I'm sure I would allow myself to be convinced otherwise. And for the record, I will be entering Fifth Year." The girl across him pouted a little at both declarations. He was two full years ahead of her, and thinking about joining the nerdy house. She brightened immediately however, at the thought that she could still talk him into going into the house of the lion.

"Well," She sat up a bit straighter and tossed the magazine to the side. I've been in Gryffindor for three years now and I love it. You make a ton of friends and out Quidditch team is the best. With four Weasleys on the team, we've gone practically undefeated since I've been here. Professor McGonagall is really strict though, even to her own house." She grimaced in obvious disdain, but it passed quickly. "Plus!" Harry was amused to see that her cheeks were tinged pink now. "Plus we could spend more time together. We already won't see each other a whole bunch since we're in different years, but if you were in Gryffindor..."

There she trailed off entirely, most likely embarrassed by how much she had just been babbling. Harry took the opportunity to consider it. He wasn't overstating just how little he cared about where he would be sorted, and Ravenclaw and Gryffindor were his two choices. Either could be entertaining to be in, and he wasn't about to let either get in the way of his training or 'mission'. Still, he thought as he eyed the blushing girl beside him appreciatively, she was physically attractive, highly responsive to his C harm, and obviously wanted to be his friend. Perhaps his time here wouldn't be so bad after all?

"Well, Miss Vane, as I mentioned before. I do not know anyone in Hogwarts beside the Headmaster and one of the Professors, and it would be nice to have a friend before we even arrive. So," He settled back with his legs propped up and crossed on the empty seat next to him with his arms crossed. "Tell me about yourself. And Hogwarts."

What followed was one of the most long-lived and engaging conversations either of them had had in quite some time. For the most part Romilda talked and Harry, asking questions periodically, but sometimes Harry would talk and Romilda listened. The girl noticed quickly that Harry would dance around topics such as where he came from and his past. He mentioned his godfather Sirius a few times, but never his parents or any siblings. Meanwhile Romilda talked about everything she could think of. Her family, her friends, Hogwarts, her classes, the teachers, herself, and countless other topics. Harry found himself thankful for his superhuman memory and focus, as he doubted he could have kept up without them.

Before either of them knew it the train had already filled with passengers and the warning was blowing, encouraging those still on the platform to hurry up before they were left behind. The shrill whistle brought Romilda out of her current anecdote and she looked around wide-eyed, as though realizing she was missing something.

"Oh, bugger! I was supposed to meet up with my friends after I found a compartment. Do you mind if they join us, after I find them?" It was really quite flattering, how the younger girl sought his approval. She just might be worth keeping around. Sirius would certainly never let him hear the end of it if he found out that he didn't, at least.

"Of course," He replied, smiling warmly. "Any friend of yours is a friend of mine."

The girl practically squealed in delight and ran off with the door swinging shut behind her, as though he would disappear if she didn't hurry. He wondered idly if maybe he had laid the supernatural allure of his kind on a little thick. Though she hadn't been panting in lust and jumping on him as Sirius, and personal experience, dictated. There had been quite a few incidents when he was coming into and learning to control his power. Still, none of them had been as young or beautiful as Romilda. Maybe there was some kind of connection there?

By the time Romilda returned, the train had left the station and was snaking its way through the green fields hidden from view of non-magicals, and thus untouched in its beauty. It was almost enough to make a guy wish for simpler times, it really was. For the moment he was far too involved in the fight against everything dark and malicious to even consider settling down, but he could look forward to another three hundred years at least, assuming he survived that long. Surely at some point there would be time to settle down? Maybe have a family or something? If he did, he wanted it to be somewhere in hills like this. Of that much he was certain.

He was broken from his thoughts by the sound of the door sliding open, and when he saw who was standing in the doorway he swallowed a bit in apprehension. There, staring at him like he was some kind of prized stallion set as the prize of a contest, were Romilda and her two friends. One was a blonde with long legs and a perky chest, while the other had light brown hair and warm hazel eyes. Romilda was in the center and back a little, allowing her friends to check Harry out to their full desire, with a look of smug satisfaction. There was no doubt in his mind that this was going to be significantly more troublesome than it was worth. Then again, he thought as a smirk came to his lips, it gave him an opportunity to put some of Sirius' tips and advice into action in a controlled environment. Best case scenario he walked away with a couple of new friends who thought he was pretty cool. Worse case scenario, he landed himself in an embarrassing situation and just avoided Gryffindor like it had the plague. Win-win!

The old woman pushing the sweets trolley had seen a lot in the thirty years she had been serving the children riding back and forth on the Hogwarts Express. She had seen fights and arguments, failed spell experiments, and nervous breakdowns as scared first years were separated from their parents for the first real time in their life. But this? She could honestly say this was a new one.

"C'mon, Harry! We've already shown you ours. It's only fair..."

"Yeah, you did promise you would show us what its like. We've only ever played with each other's before. Never with a boy's."

Now she prided herself on being a level-headed witch. She had been trained, upon accepting the job, how to react to a number of unlikely situation each more far-fetched than the last. Including but not limited to; Death Eater attacks, goblin rebellions, non-magical interference, _dragon attacks_, and any other even remote possibility. This? This she had never had to deal with, and all she could think to do was stand there with a look of bewildered horror on her face as she listened to the perverse conversation continue.

"Easy girls, I'm going to show you like I said I would but I don't want you getting to over enthusiastic okay? If you pass it around too much, I don't know how it will react." There was the unmistakeable sound of clothing shifting around, and a set of feminine gasps of surprise.

"Oh my god!"

"It's so thick. It has to be as big around as a baby's arm!"

Blushing madly, the trolley witch made her decision. There was no way she could allow the situation to continue any more than it already had. There hadn't been a single case of a child's conception in her time working on the Hogwarts Express, and by Merlin there wasn't about to! With eyes averted and wand drawn to cover up whatever exposed organs were on display, the seventy year old woman pushed the door open.

"What's going on here!" Her voice was shrill and uneven, despite her attempts to appear composed. Her abrupt entrance came to the shock of the girls present, while Harry just watched with barely contained amusement. All three girls shrieked in surprise and jumped about a foot in the air, spinning around like they had been caught with their hand in the cookie jar, so to speak. Behind them, Harry was still splayed out casually on one of the seats, legs spread out comfortably with one arm along the backrest of his seat and the other had his... wand... out. "Ah. I uhm," The old woman coughed in embarrassment. "I see I was mistaken. I'll just..."

She didn't even finish her sentence. The woman beat a hasty retreat from the compartment, the blush on her features belaying her advanced age and supposed maturity. In her wake she left one highly amused half-vampire, three suitably traumatized young witches, and the trolley cart full of various sweets and pastries. The girls were all silent, confused, and scared. Harry took the opportunity to stick his head out the doorway, check for witnesses, and drag the cart into the compartment with the door locked behind it. It would be returned at the end of the trip empty but for the cockroach clusters and a small pile of galleons. Enough to cover the expenses, as well as a hefty tip for the old woman herself.

After a pregnant pause it was Romilda to finally break the silence.

"What the hell was that?" It was that deadpan statement that Harry could no longer keep a straight face. His rolling laughter literally had tears running down his cheeks, and he was holding his sides in pain from laughing so hard. Seeing him in his condition soon had the girls laughing as well, and before long they were all out of breath and gasping for air.

"That..." Harry wheezed, still trying to catch his bearings and swallow the peals of laughter. "Was the funniest thing I have ever seen in my entire life. And you haven't met my godfather yet. Believe me when I say that means something."

Romilda nodded in agreement as she wiped the tears from her eyes and her blond friend used her as a support to sit up straight. The four of them were red-faced from the exertion, and took a couple of minutes to calm down before they could resume their conversation.

"So Harry," The brunette started, still gazing with wonder at his wand. "What kind of wand is that? I've never seen one like it before."

"It's made of yew. I had it custom made from a specialist over in the States when none of his would react to my presence."

"Yew? But that's supposed to be rarely used because of the types of wizards who use them."

"Oh really?" Harry asked with a cocked brow. "And what kind of wizard is that, then?" Romilda was quick to come to her now cowering friend's defense.

"Come on, Harry, you know she didn't mean it like that. Yew wands are just rumored to be wielded by those who prefer violence to peace. Those who enjoy hurting people." Harry was silent and thoughtful at that, and Romilda took the opportunity to change the subject.

"So what is your wand core? Mine's unicorn hair."

"Ah well, you see..." The boy rubbed his neck, obviously uneasy at the line of questioning. An odd reaction to such a casual question, given how much wizards liked bragging about their wands. For him to not want to answer meant it had to be something exotic. As he tried to avoid their gazes, Romilda shot her friends a look. The two caught onto her meaning and, while the brunette flushed brightly, they both wanted to know as badly as she did. The two got up from their seats, as did Romilda from Harry's side, and sat extraordinarily close. Both were within kissing distance with their sides pressed against him and turned towards him. They were so close in fact, if Harry and either of the girls were to breath in deeply at the same time, her breasts would rub against his chest. Romilda took it upon herself to make the risque play, as Harry only had two sides. She sank to her knees and crawled forward, enticingly slowly, on all fours with her halter top dipping dangerously low. It was only through his will power that Harry was able to prevent himself from reacting externally. Too much, at least.

"Please..." Romilda practically whispered as she came to a stop between his legs. He was pretty sure that they wouldn't try anything given how young they were, but if it was only a bluff they sure as hell knew what they were doing. He could practically hear the pounding of their heartbeats and the rushing of healthy young blood flowing through their veins. So pure, so undiluted compared to the filthy scumbags he had been forcing himself to feed from ever since his hunger had first stirred. "Please tell us. We promise you won't regret it."

The sultry tone of three voices in synch made Harry believe them. The girls at his side had taken to running one hand through his hair while they traced the other over his chest. He noticed the extra attention they paid to his muscle tone and made a mental note to thank Sirius for forcing him to tag along to the closest gym to wherever they had been staying at the time. Their synchronous motions were draining the strength from him, and Harry felt the years of high stress begin to take its toll. His eyes began to droop with weariness, and as soon as Romilda laid her head on his thigh and stroked his hip lightly, he felt sleep claim him.

Harry woke up slowly from a short, but extremely satisfying nap. Due in part to his heritage, his training at Sirius' hand, and his own natural tendencies, he needed far less sleep than a normal human, magical or otherwise. Even when he slept at night it was light and he would awake for the smallest reason. So any sleep he could get that was truly restful, he cherished like the gift it was. As he came to his senses, he heard three soft voices speaking quietly around him, though the warmth and feeling of security hadn't faded. They must have remained where they had been when he fell asleep and spoken softly so as not to wake him. That was... surprisingly nice of them. He was pretty sure that him falling asleep was _not_ the reaction they had expected from such an endeavor.

"How long was I out?" The voices stopped instantly and he felt the girls stretch out, stiff from being in the same position for so long. To his surprise it was the brunette hanging from his left arm, Anna, to speak.

"Not long. An hour maybe? We'll be arriving before too long. We would have woken you sooner, but you looked so peaceful like that."

"Don't think we've forgotten though," The blond, Melissa, said with a wicked grin. Harry considered it for a moment. He hadn't wanted to spread word around about how different he was already, but the three girls had done him a great kindness without even knowing it. And besides, it really wasn't the biggest secret he had, was it?

He had been planning out what to share with his three admirers when the compartment doors were thrown open inconsiderately by some pale punk with slicked back hair, a greasy grin, and expensive robes. On either side were two young trolls and trailing behind was a girl his own age with black hair and and expression of pure disgust. At what though, was impossible to determine. Harry's eyes were drawn to the green and silver scarf drawn around the girl's neck. Even for normal British weather, it was too hot to be wearing a scarf for the sake of being cold. He doubted she was hiding an Adam's apple, so what was the deal? The ringleader eyed the situation with undisguised surprise before he schooled his features back into an infuriating smirk that made Harry want to feed the boy his own teeth.

"Wow, Vane," Great. His voice was as oily as the rest of him. "I knew you and your friends were whores, but this just takes the cake. All three of you hanging from an older boy? You really have no standards, do you?"

Harry could feel Melissa and Romilda tense up while Anna wilted under the harsh words. Before Melissa could retort, as she so wanted to, Harry put a comforting hand on the small of her back.

"If you'll excuse us, we were in the middle of something," Harry squeezed the two girls on his arms to him a bit tighter, eliciting a squeak from the girl on his left. "And I do so hate being interrupted. Now, why don't you be a champ and show yourself out?"

"Don't you know who I am? My name is-..." Harry cut him off with a dismissive hand gesture.

"I didn't say I cared to know you. Now leave. And take your entourage with you. We're full to capacity and they're stinking up the place, I'm afraid." The boy recoiled as though struck with a physical blow. He was obviously not used to being dismissed by those he considered to be his peers or inferiors.

"You're going to regret this. Mark my words, you'd better watch yourself, new blood."

Harry didn't respond, and after a moment the group of interlopers left, slamming the door behind them hard enough to make the glass rattle. The group was silent for a moment before the boy sighed.

"He is just going to be a treat. I can already tell." It took a little while for the tense atmosphere to dissolve, and Romilda turned her attention back to Harry.

"Were you serious, Harry? Have you really never heard of Draco Malfoy?"

"Malfoy? His father wouldn't happen to be Lucius Malfoy, would he?" The girls nodded and Harry rolled his eyes. "Fabulous. That would explain the attitude alright. My godfather and I have had a couple of altercations with Pompous Ass Senior, and it hasn't ended well. I'm actually kind of surprised that he didn't recognize me by sight, but I guess his father isn't exactly leaping at the chance to spread word of his failures."

Before their conversation could continue any, an announcement came over the magically altered speaker system ran throughout the train.

"_Attention passengers, we are approaching our destination. Hogsmeade Station, end of the line. All students of Hogwarts should be in their assigned uniforms and prepared for departure. Students are to be reminded that all carry ons should be taken inside, but that all other possessions shall be taken care of by Hogwarts staff. Thank you for riding the Hogwarts Express, and we wish you a happy semester." _Harry cocked his head at the announcement and looked over at Romilda.

"Hogwarts has uniforms?" The girls nodded with a confused expression on their face, and began gathering up their bags. No doubt preparing to change somewhere. "God damn it, Sirius..."

He left the girls with that same expression on their faces and made his way out into the hallway. Apparently every other male on the train had shared the thought to wait in the hallway while the girls changed in their rooms. Sure enough, practically everyone he saw were wearing matching black robes, though there were varying patches on their breast. When the other students noticed he was still wearing blue jeans, a leather jacket, and black combat boots, he quickly became the head freak at the circus show.

"This year is going to be fun, I can already tell..."

A/N: Special thanks to Le Diablo Blanc2 for being the first official reviewer. I don't mind people reviewing as guests, but I make an effort to respond to all signed in reviewers individually! You're the bomb, bro. As always, loved it? Hated it? Tips or suggestions? Come on guys! Just the tip! (Snirk)

Thanks for reading, and don't be a stranger!

- Nik0laiCarpathia


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